Haze
by PerProteggere
Summary: She's working through the haze that has become her life. His absence is all around her, until she can no longer breathe. She takes this route, because it's the only way to find herself -and him- again. E/O romance, after a Rollins/Olivia experience.
1. Haze

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order SVU, or it's characters.**

**A/N: A new fic for a new season. Take it as you want. A bit AU. Props to my girl Lauren, (IRANT_ on twitter) for making this fic become real. Takes place in S13. Haters gonna hate.**

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><p>She blows the smoke into the darkened city, taking a glance at the city below her.<p>

He would yell at her endlessly.

If he were here.

But he's gone, vanished into thin air. She's called and called, left message after message. He's checked them, deleted them, only to receive more from her, and delete them once again. It's a fucked up circle and she keeps spinning, and one day, she'll fall down.

The smoking helps. It started with a cigarette when she was undercover, and then another when she needed an escape. The stress leaves and in the irony of it all, she only craves one when she thinks of his face.

And when he's all around her, whispering to her, screaming at her, telling her what to do and what not to, the craving comes often.

She doesn't straighten her hair anymore. She doesn't wear as much make up as she did before. She really just doesn't give a fuck.

She's cold, now.

It helps her feel warm, but it's a far cry from the way she used to be. When his gaze would fall upon her, she'd feel like she was warm. Maybe a little fuzzy, around the edges. The craving for the nicotine comes and she wants to kick the habit already, but she knows that she'll need it until he returns.

If he returns.

In the same undercover operation she smoked her first cigarette in, she also took her first hit off a pipe. The perp she was after got her high, and slowly creeped his fingers around her throat. She had fought him tooth and nail, but he stays with her, every time she lights a blunt, take a hit from her pipe, or rolls a joint.

_You're better then this, Liv. _

She's been hearing his voice for a while. He stops torturing her when she shuts him out, with the help of her in-house grown enabler. Olivia's toes curl as she lowers her mouth to the mouth of her glass friend, pressing her lips against it, and she breathes deeply through her mouth, sucking in the smoke.

"Damn," The haze is slowly creeping in, and she likes it.

She likes a lot of things she didn't before he left.

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><p>The cold is creeping in. Ever so slowly, she's becoming more and more surrounded by his absence. It's everyday, every hour, every minute she deals with him, the memories, his voice.<p>

His voice surrounds her, suffocates her. It makes her want to scream. He's telling her she needs to keep calm, that she's a good cop, and he's got her back. She knows just how far she's stretched from reality, from the person she used to be, when she calls and he never answers.

Her arm is thrown over her eyes, but she peeks over her limb to look at her nightstand, at an old picture framed in plain looking glass. She curses, removing her arm to gently place the picture face down.

_Remember all of the Thursday nights, Liv? The night we drank ourselves into a stupor, and I told you things I never expected you to listen to? How my hand would graze down your arm, and you'd lean into me? _

Olivia's hand grasps the picture as she pulls it back roughly, swinging her arm until she let's go, releasing it into the air. She watches it propel across the room, shattering it. The shards sparkle as the moonlight streams through her bedroom window.

_I'm sorry, for everything. _

"How could you leave me... After everything?"

Her body sinks back into the bed, relaxing and molding into the mattress that's become accustomed to her body. Fourty-seven times, she's called him. Not once has he called her back. She stares at the ceiling, and she wishes.

She wishes he would call. She wishes he would do a lot of things that deep down, she knows will never happen. The first tear rolls from the corner of her eye and disappears into her hairline, just like he disappeared from her life.

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><p>Hoping. Wishing. Giving up. Restarting. Screaming. Crying.<p>

She's done it all. Hell, she's done it all at once. Her arm lays over her eyes and she reminisces that her brain is still a little foggy, whether it's from the sleep or the high, she doesn't know or care.

Breathing. She hears it, and it's not her own. Her gun is under her pillow and in a long second her fingers could be wrapped around it, but she's overwhelmed with a sense of calm. Like when he was around. The possibility of him being in her apartment is small, but she still quickly let's everything she's felt over the past few months surface and invade her mind.

Crunching glass. He steps quickly, pivoting on his right foot before he stands in the doorway, his gun draw as he looks frantically around the room, until his eyes land on her. She brings the arm that was over her eyes to her bed, pushing herself up into a sitting position. Olivia blinks at the figure and her old partner is gone. Nick Amaro stands in the doorway, slowly dropping his gun to his side.

"Jesus Christ, Olivia... What happened in here?"

She rolls her eyes, feeling the resentment and anger building inside. Her voice is raspy and thick with sleep and smoke. "...The fuck are you doing here, Amaro?" Olivia glares at him, shifting in her bed, not caring her shirt has lowered in the neckline and risen in the waist for him to see. His eyes are locked on her face, almost avoiding looking down at her body, still dressed in her work clothes, but not covered by any sheet or blanket.

"Are you even aware you left your door open for God knows who to just walk in?" Nick growls at her, holstering his gun before crossing his arms over his chest. He stands stoically, raising his head to look down his nose at her, and she glares back, intent on letting him know he isn't welcome.

"I think I'm truly below the point of giving a fuck."

She really doesn't. She hates that he cares already, although he won't admit it. Fuck caring, she doesn't want to feel anything anymore. She wouldn't have to feel the anguish of working at SVU, or the guilt of being the bearer of bad news to parents and families. She doesn't want to feel the heartache of going to her desk each day and seeing his, bare with only a picture of him and Eli, but nothing else. No evidence he was even there in the first place.

Her eyes meet his again, and he nearly snarls at her. "I could arrest you right now, Olivia." She raises her eyebrows in question. "This place reeks of grass, and your eyes are glassier then fuck."

"If you have a problem, don't forget to let the door hit your ass on the way out." Olivia snaps, pointing her finger at the door almost wildly. His jaw tightens and relaxes as he stares at her, his face like stone, no expression revealed. His moment ends, and he cocks an eyebrow at her.

"Did I do something to make you hate me?"

She cracks her knuckles and stares down at her lap. "The amount of respect you'll get is how much I'll allow you to have." Olivia observes as Nick's stance widens, his body language becoming defensive. A smirks spreads across her face and she knows she's now under his skin.

"I know I'm not your partner, but I earned my spot in this unit." His tone is harsh, even accusing, but she let's it slide, covering her hurt by letting her smile widen. She looks him up and down, taking in his expensive looking suit, his unscathed shoes, the slenderness of his tie and his entire body.

He's a prick.

"Doesn't mean I need to give a damn about you," She cocks her head to the side, raising her left eyebrow at him. "So to earn your keep, you can start by getting me my coffee." Nick scoffs and unfolds his arms, but heads into her kitchen.

Olivia doesn't like him. But that doesn't mean she can't use him.

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><p>Her legs are long, muscled, endless. The shoes she wears are simple, but are a platform for the bottoms of her flared work pants, and synch and hug tightly to her upper thighs. If she stood, he'd be able to see her ass, a sight he finds himself wanting to see. His eyes travel up her body, landing on her supple breasts for hard second before raising to her face, watching her face relax just a little when she stretches her arms over her head.<p>

Her skin.

It's so fucking touchable, to him. Her turtleneck rides up around her waist just the slightest, giving him a peek at what he pictures himself kissing, touching, and caressing. Her limbs lower and he keeps his eyes on her from behind his computer screen. Olivia's hand brushes down her face and to her neck, where it tugs at the material of her shirt, enabling her fingernails to scratch the skin softly. When her hand moves down though, he sees the reason behind her itching neck.

A hickey.

**A/N: So... Do you want more? Leave a review, and let me know. :) **

**twitter: viperraps**


	2. Honey

**Dlsclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters.**

**A/N: Benson always likes to play games. As an explanation: The parts in italics are when Elliot's voice is in Olivia's head. Also, I am aware this is listed as an E/O story, because in time, it will be. But time was never right for E/O, so you'll just have to wait and see...  
><strong>

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><p>Olivia's body is tight. It's tight with stress, anxiety, depression. She slouches in her chair as she stares blankly at her computer screen, supposedly typing up paper work.<p>

It's been two days since she sat in silence at her kitchen counter and drank the coffee Nick had made for her. He had stared her down, studying her every move. His eyes had made her uncomfortable, staring at her face as she looked down into her cup, wrapped loosely in her fingers.

She feels his eyes again. She's always known when a man watches her, and _really _looks at her. Her tongue runs over her lips slowly, then without looking at him, she bites her lip, and let's a small moan out. From her peripheral vision, she watches Nick cough loudly, sputtering and sitting up straighter in his seat. A smirk spreads on her face, and her fingers run through her hair, pulling it back from obscuring her view of him. Her desk phone rings, pulling her attention back to her desk.

"Detective Benson speaking." Olivia's voice sounds, but it sounds automated, like she was just an answering machine. Maybe she is, now. The person on the other line breathes out a sigh, almost sounding relieved. She waits, not wanting to push the person calling her. The seconds drag on, and she's about to hang up, when she hears a voice.

"Liv..."

He's not dying. She knows he isn't in trouble. How could he be? He wasn't a cop anymore. He wasn't the type of man to get himself into a deadly situation. But maybe now that he's gone, he's changed. She knows deep down inside, though. He's not in danger, he hasn't changed everything about him, although she's still lost as to who exactly Elliot Stabler is nowadays.

His sob is gentle, almost like a whimper.

She can't do this. She won't have him call her at work and embarrass her in front of the squad after everything she's been through. The lump in her throat won't let her say goodbye to him. She never could, anyway. She was a coward when it came to him. He sobs again into the phone, breathing erratically and clicking the saliva in the back of his mouth like he wants to talk, but he can't. They both can't.

Olivia pulls the phone from her ear, dragging out the seconds until the phone meets the receiver and she's aware of the small part of her mind begging him to just say something, anything. The rattled noise of her phone hitting the lever snaps her from her haze, and she's back again, hearing all of the people working and walking about as she keeps her eyes glued to the phone.

Nick stands before her desk then, crossing his arms over his chest. "Everything alright?"

She fixes her eyes on his, and she knows how hard it must be, coming to a new unit and not having the respect he deserves from one of his new colleagues, one who should be mentoring him.

But she doesn't care about him. She likes to use him. Have him run errands that aren't necessary, slide vulgar, rude comments into conversations, and rarely let him take the lead.

"Go fuck yourself, Amaro." Olivia finds herself growling at him as she stands up, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair and hastily putting it on. Nick stands before her stoically, pressing his lips into a hard line, looking unimpressed, like he's heard it a thousand times. She brushes past him, avoiding Amanda Rollins eyes as she walks out of the bullpen and down the short hallway to the elevators. Olivia looks down at her feet and closes her eyes, just for a sweet second.

_Breathe, Liv. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..._

She's been hearing him say that a lot lately.

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><p>Her shoes scrape the ground as she drags them along, her hands stuffed deep in the pockets of her unzipped jacket. The lighter in her pocket is wrapped tightly around her fingers, scolding herself for leaving her glass friend at home.<p>

"Olivia!" A woman's voice echoes through the street, making her turn around slowly, squinting as the dim light did nothing to help her see who was calling out to her. A figure approached, slim with blonde, straight hair.

If it's Kathy, she'll run.

But the voice is too deep, too rugged and laced with sex. The figure walks further towards her, then she realizes that the woman isn't Kathy Stabler, but Amanda Rollins. She jogs to catch up with Olivia, and stops when she's five feet away from her.

"I've been calling your name for a block now," Amanda chuckles, her breath evident in the cold night. Her hips sway as she walks towards Olivia, and she can't help but notice now. _She's got an amazing body._ "You up for a drink?" Olivia nods, smiling slightly as she turns and walks with the younger woman, their strides matching. They walk towards the bar she had been heading to, the neon sign getting larger as the move closer.

Soon, they find themselves sitting in silence at the bar, and Olivia realizes then, that she's never really tried with the woman, although she seems like a good person, and her instincts are rarely wrong. The beer she's drinking just isn't strong enough, but she doesn't want vodka.

She's got whiskey and rum... Maybe a little tequila back at her apartment. The thing is, she wants to bring Amanda with her. The tension between them grows as Olivia's hand brushes against hers. Amanda's hand twitches, then runs over the back of Olivia's hand, and up her arm. The sexual charge in the look Amanda gives her makes her heart race. She's never slept with a woman, and she doubts Amanda has either, but she wants to. Amanda has an air around her that screams sex, and she wants it. She wants her under her tongue...

"Do you want to come to my place for a drink?"

Olivia whispers, lowering her eyelashes until she's staring at Amanda through them as she sucks her lip between her bottom teeth. To her surprise, her companion nods and turns her body towards Olivia, letting her eyes drop down to her lips.

"Only if Amaro can come along, too."

She doesn't know why, but she agrees.

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><p>Their drinks lie on the table, half full, with lip gloss stains on the rims. Olivia pulls her feet underneath her on the couch and smirks at Amanda, who sits across from her on the same couch with her lean legs crossed and stretched out, nearly touching Olivia's thigh.<p>

"Amaro likes to take his sweet time," Amanda chuckles out, smirking back at her. She doesn't know what's been planned in Olivia's head, but she finds herself wanting to drag her foot, just a bit, and feel her the skin of her thigh, even through the work pants she wears. Amanda's eyes flick up to hers and narrow, but Olivia looks away, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"I'll be right back..." Her voice is just a murmur, and it worries Amanda.

_Has she done something wrong?_

Olivia rises from the couch and walks towards her bedroom, not shutting it when she goes through the entrance. She doesn't know if it's an invitation or not, but she feels herself getting off of the couch gradually, allowing her mind to drift.

_She's never had a feeling like this before. She wants _her.

Amanda follows Olivia's footsteps, and glances around the bedroom as she enters. The nightstand is open with a few papers pushed aside, along with a broken picture frame. From her standpoint, she can't tell who's in the picture, or what it's even of. Or why it's broken and still in her nightstand.

"Shit." She hears Olivia whisper, followed by a cough. Her eyes narrow as she looks at the bathroom door, which remains ajar, but doesn't show Olivia's figure. Amanda walks anyways, and tentatively nudges the door open.

The smell is the first thing that hits her. The thick musk makes her want to cough, but she pushes back the urge and lifts her eyes to Olivia, with a joint between her lips,and a lighter between her fingers. "Pass it," Amanda finds herself mumbling, moving her eyes to Olivia's lips. But Olivia shakes her head and smirks.

"C'mere." Olivia mumbles back to her, crooking a finger. Amanda moves without thinking, smoothing out her hand on the bathroom counter and running her hand along the smooth surface. Olivia's finger lands between her lips, making her startle slightly and look up into the older woman's eyes. Her free hand holds the joint as she sucks in the smoke deeply, then pulls it away from her mouth while she holds her breath.

Amanda's mouth drops open a bit when Olivia leans down, their faces so close together she could count Olivia's eyelashes. Her mouth opens as well, blowing out the smoke directly into Amanda's mouth. She inhales deeply and moves her hand from the counter to Olivia's hip, then leans further into her.

Olivia's exhale finishes. Her lips curl into a smirk as she looks down at Amanda, pleased to see her eyes already becoming glassy. The thumb that held her mouth open now skims along her chin, then her neck. Amanda's heart begins to hammer in anticipation, watching Olivia's eyes follow her thumb. It swirls and lands just in front of her ear, pushing her fingers into the blonde hair, making a small whimper escape from Amanda's parted lips.

The next thing she feels is Olivia's lips on hers, crushing and dominant.

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><p>She likes it. Her own lips against Amanda's. Her hand tugging at the blonde hair to get her closer. Their bodies pressed together as Olivia let's the forgotten joint fall into the sink and brings her hand to Amanda's waist, pulling her closer, molding their bodies together.<p>

Olivia has yet to pull away. Her breath comes in harshly through her nose while she tilts her head and opens her mouth, running her tongue along Amanda's lips. She opens her mouth to Olivia and they both moan, their hands moving faster over each others bodies. Their tongues swirl and explore and push Olivia further to her edge. She wants her now.

_I've always wanted to see you kiss another woman, Liv._

He doesn't kill the mood. He never does, never has. His voice is a constant, even when he was around in the flesh. When he would scare off men from asking her on a date, but always go home to his wife. She misses that part of him, the jealousy, the hatred of other men who dared to look at her. He turns her on, and his voice in her head always helps her.

She pushes Amanda back towards the bedroom, their lips still moving against one another. They stumble back the five steps to Olivia's bed and she lays Amanda down underneath her, moving her lips from the other woman's mouth to her neck, biting gently at the skin.

"I've never done this before..." Amanda whispers almost shyly, running her fingers through Olivia's curly hair. She doesn't pull back from her assault on her neck, just moves her mouth lower as her legs separate and straddle Amanda's hips. Her hands moves to Amanda's shirt, pulling it up just under her breasts. They moves down again, feeling the soft and warm skin of her toned stomach.

"Neither have I, but I don't think we'll need a manual," She returns, kissing down the rest of Amanda's neck and between the swells of her breasts as she shimmies down the rest of her body. Olivia sits up, straddling Amanda's knees while she unbuttons her jeans, tugging them down to her thighs along with her underwear.

Her mouth meets Amanda's stomach then. She looks up at her, smiling slightly nervously. Amanda tucks a stray hair behind Olivia's ear and gasps when she tugs her pants down to her ankles and pulls them all the way off, letting them fall to the ground haphazardly.

She's off of Amanda and on the floor in a second, lowering herself to her knees before separating and pulling Amanda's legs hard, until her legs are draped over her shoulders, forcing Olivia to intake a breath sharply. The scent of Amanda's arousal sends the blood rushing through her veins.

"Olivia."

Her eyes dart up to the woman calling her name. The effects of the joint are clouded by the lust in her eyes as she puts a gentle hand on the back of Olivia's head. She lowers her mouth then, kissing and licking the inside of her thighs while her hands drift upwards, pushing the light material of her shirt and bra over her breasts.

_Just do what you like, Liv. She'll love it any way you do._

So she does. Olivia's hands cup and squeeze her breasts, and her mouth meets Amanda's hot center. She had never pictured herself here, between a woman's legs, much less her coworkers. But she chants in her head, that things change. People leave. Her heart still hurts, but this is her way of dealing with the loss. Never forgetting, just keeping him close by dipping her tongue between Amanda's lips, tasting her for the first time.

She doesn't care if it's just this once. She's a damn good distraction. Her body, her pants, her moans, they're perfect.

Olivia's tongue flicks over her clit, making her buck and apply more pressure to the back of her head. Her lips wrap around the sensitive nerves, sucking it into her mouth. Amanda cries out, clutching onto Olivia's hair as she lays her head back and shuts her eyes tightly. This makes her smirk, and she takes a hand out from her shirt, lowering it to Amanda's entrance. She inserts two fingers, slowly, widening her eyes at the feeling of her fingers inside of another woman. Her digits move, and Olivia's eyes move from the bottom half of Amanda's face to the bedroom door to the right of Amanda.

Nick stands before them, stiff as a board, his eyes blazing on Olivia. Between them, Amanda cries out again, tightening slightly around Olivia's fingers. She pumps them faster, keeping her tongue gliding over Amanda's clit, while Olivia stares at the man in her doorway.

"Fuck..." Olivia hears Amanda moan loudly, going rigid beneath her. The woman's back arches and her walls tighten and quiver around Olivia's fingers, urging her to thrust them harder, faster, rougher. She hits her climax.

It's nothing Olivia has ever experienced. Her eyes move from Nick to Amanda, watching as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. She thrusts her hips forward, pushing Olivia's fingers deeper, letting out one last cry before she relaxes, slumping back into the bed beneath her. Olivia pulls her fingers from Amanda's core, and begins kissing up her thighs, moving her eyes to the door. She moves her lovers legs back to the mattress.

He's not there anymore.

Olivia breathes deeply then, smirking up at the younger woman's flushed face. She licks her lips and straddles Amanda's hips, planting her hands on either side of her head, bending to kiss her lips again. She whispers against her lips, "You taste like honey, when you come..." Making Amanda's already flushed cheeks a deeper red. Olivia smiles and moves off of her, picking up her pants. She watches Amanda redress, and when she finishes, she kisses her deeply, moaning against her lips before pulling away.

Olivia leads her out into the living room, smirking at a disheveled looking Nick. He sits rigidly, narrowing his eyes at Olivia, before looking Amanda up and down. She feels possessive, then.

"Looks like you've seen a ghost, Nick." She growls with snark, seating herself on the couch with Amanda, who remains silent beside her, filling up with questions about Nick. She won't mind, when she asks them though. There isn't much to tell in the first place.

"Yeah, uh... Something like that..." Nick stutters, backing away towards the door. His eyes narrow on Olivia again, looking disapprovingly at her, and almost jealous. "I've gotta go." She smirks at this, bowing her head to kiss Amanda's temple.

"Well I'm sorry we didn't get to visit more... Maybe another time?" Olivia whispers against her skin, pulling Amanda closer. She turns and kisses Olivia then, and she returns the kiss, working her way from her lips down to her neck, glancing Nick from the corner of her eye. He stutters out a farewell, shakily closing the door, as Amanda's back meets the couch.

Olivia knows her sexuality. She's not a lesbian, nor is she bisexual. She's just dealing in her own way, working through her losses and trying to gain some light on all of the darkness that surrounds her these days. The haze is starting to roll in, but she kisses Amanda's lips again, willing herself just to forget her losses and move on.

But she never can.

**A/N: Thoughts? Review and let me know if you want some more Haze :D**


	3. Turning

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters. **

**A/N: Well, damn. We meet again.**

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><p>He sits on his couch, and he feels as if the days and nights mixed together, he wouldn't really notice. All he notices in the hours, weeks, months, is <em>her.<em>

She's scolding his attire, his attitude towards life these days, his lack of inspiration to really wake up, and stay that way. She's screaming at him then, telling him she's strong and he need not worry about her. But he can't help himself. She's never had anyone, he's always been driven to be there for her. But it's so much more then that.

_You've ruined everything, El._

This is why he doesn't want to get out of bed most days. She tells him to go back to bed, because he doesn't belong anywhere else. He doesn't belong in her life, now. _But is it really her talking, or his conscience? _

_Screw you. How could you just drop everything and leave? _

"I didn't want to, Liv... It was just the right thing to do." His voice cracks, dying off into a broken whisper at the end of his rambling. He looks down at the picture in his hands, his thumb running over her beaming face. Beside her, Elliot looks genuinely happy. He is. Her arm is wrapped around his and she's leaning into him, and he remembers the feel of her uniform against his, the heat beneath it raising goosebumps on his arms.

They look... Married. Content. Maybe a little shaky around the edges. But they're still there. He turns the picture over and analyzes her handwriting closely, smiling through his emotions at her perfect script.

_May 14th, 2011, at one of those stupid fucking One-P-P events. _

Elliot flips the photo again, his eyes glazing over at the image of her hair, which had always looked perfect. He wonders if she kept it the way it was when he last saw her, if she highlighted it, or cut it again. He likes her hair long, though. His fantasies have always included tugging on her hair, waiting for her reaction.

_I'd moan and beg for more, El. More of you._

Fucking hell. She'll be the death of him.

He leans back into his couch and closes his eyes, feeling himself getting harder as time rolls by. Her hands are on him and he wants to feel her against him, panting in his ear, moaning his name, scratching her nails down his back as he thrusts into her. Would she like it fast or slow? His hand finds its way inside of his sweat pants and curls around his now stiff member, making himself groan as thoughts of Olivia swarm his mind.

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><p>She kisses Amanda's lips, leaning against the sliding glass door, the city dark yet lightened by the night's light beside them. Fuck, she thinks. This woman is growing on her, even though she wants her old squad back. Her fingers run through Olivia's hair and pull her closer, even though she has to arch her neck to kiss the brunette. Her lips move to Olivia's pulse point, sucking lightly, her hands inching under her shirt, testing the waters.<p>

"That feels good," Olivia says, too breathless to really put an effort in. Too absorbed in the feeling of Amanda's lips skimming her neck, like her fingers skimming along her rib cage. The warm hands move up and under-

_Fuck, fuck, fuck._

She feels like it's her first time all over again. The sensation of Amanda's hands on her breasts is breathtaking, and as she brushes her thumb over an already taut nipple, she gasps. The feeling is overwhelming. Her own fingers are in Amanda's hair, clenching and unclenching, gripping the blonde strands and releasing.

Amanda's mouth comes off of her neck when a phone buzzes, and she takes her hands out from Olivia's shirt as well. Panting, they both look in the direction of the coffee table. Olivia turns back towards Amanda, pressing her lips to the younger woman's once more before moving to the stand over her cell phone, still ringing loudly throughout the apartment. Her caller ID makes her heart pound in her ears and ache for some sort of relief in this moment. He's calling her and she's picking up the phone, sliding the bar across to answer and pressing it to her ear before she can even give her decision a second thought.

"Hi." Her voice is a little too breathy, and bit too low and she knows he'll notice.

He's making her feel self-conscious. She realizes then, that maybe she doesn't trust him as much as she used to. Why should she, when he made her question everything she ever did for him, thinking it drove him away? It wasn't just about the shooting, she knows that. He said it in his words, or lack there of. If the fucker is going to stay silent like he did-

"Why are you with her?" His voice is jealous. Almost angry. She knows exactly where he is and she wonders how long he's been there, how many times he's done this. She spins on her heel and looks right at Amanda, then signals toward the glass door. She glances down, her head hidden behind the curtain and drops her gaze when Olivia guesses that she's seen her- What is he, now?

Olivia steps towards the door and the lump in her throat is nearly painful as she presses her hand to the glass, looking down at Elliot, leaning on his motorcycle, his arm tense at his side, the other pressing the phone to his ear. Even from four stories away, she can tell he's different. All she can hear is his breathing on the line, and her own shaky pants. He can't keep coming and going in her life. She just can't handle it.

Amanda pushes her hair over her shoulder, and then her lips are on the nape of her neck, making Olivia shiver. "That's none of your business." Soft, open mouthed kisses are placed on her neck.

Elliot huffs and she watches him step away from his bike, but he doesn't stop walking.

He's coming up to see her.

Her eyes sting while she faces Amanda, who's giving her a small smile. "I knew he would come back for you." She takes Olivia's hand in hers and leads her towards the door, her steps slow, deliberate. Her fingers fall between the older woman's. She just wanted this distraction, this relief from everything that threatens to consume her. "You need to talk to him." Amanda opens the apartment door and turns to Olivia.

It's the way that the blonde kisses her, that she knows she'll remember her. Her lips are soft but press hard, full of passion and angst. She hears footsteps at the end of the hallway but pulls her hand from Amanda's and pushes her fingers through the blonde strands of hair. The footsteps get closer.

She recognizes the angry huffing, the heavy footfall and pulls away from Amanda's lips. "I'll catch you later, Rollins." She's whispering, looking in her eyes and avoiding looking at the man to their right. All this time, she's begged anyone, anything, just for him to come back. But is she ready? She doesn't know.

That's been her motto for the past three months. _She doesn't know. _

She glances past the figure beside her now to watch Amanda walking away. Her fists clench at her sides when she feels the rush that always flows through her veins when he's near. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him glaring at Amanda and she remembers how much she hated his possessive side. But she loves it, more then she hates it.

When Amanda disappears around the corner, Elliot looks at her. His voice is barely a whisper and she's drowning in his voice. "Do you trust me?"

She doesn't know why, but she nods. She doesn't know if it's the truth. He gestures towards the hallway and they begin walking, but their strides don't match. She's on edge and she's walking faster and this time he's not making an effort to catch up.

The Elliot she knew would have.

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><p>In the middle of the sidewalk, he stands before her, a gentle hand on her face. She's frozen. He's never touched her like this. He's leaning closer and closer until she has to back away because she's too fucking broken to do anything else.<p>

"I don't know if I can do this," Olivia mumbles, turning the opposite way they were headed. She pulls out a cigarette and with it between her lips, her lighter encounters the end and she puffs deep because Christ, this is all too much for her. She's just about to exhales through her nose when a long pale hand takes the cigarette from her mouth. It's on the ground and under his foot in seconds, and she's pissed he didn't let her finish it.

"You are ready...But you don't want to be." She wants to do something, hit him, push him, just fucking run because her heart can't take another hit of him disappearing again. But cold metal is now against her chest and she can't breathe properly.

"What is this?" Her voice is a hiss while she holds the necklace in her hand, staring at the unfamiliar symbols. It's bulky. "Semper Fi." His voice is so close to her ear she begins to tremble. He's delicate with his fingers, pushing the hair over her shoulder. He clasps the necklace and she's praying he won't touch her. He's so close, too close. She's staring at the cloudy sky above her, fighting back the tears that are trying to push out of her eyes.

"I want to talk." Elliot's voice is wavering and she knows if she opens her mouth, the only thing that will come out is a sob. He tries to lace his fingers through hers but she pulls her hand back. She begins walking again, this time in the direction they were originally headed and he jogs up to her.

When they arrive at where they're headed, she can't scream at him and he's thankful for that. He's thankful his necklace is around the neck of the woman he truly loves and although she's scared, he knows she's willing to give it a try.

**A/N: Is that the end, or do you want more?**

**twitter: viperraps**


	4. Stopping

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters.**

**A/N: A short update for you winter break coming up quick, updates will be coming faster. Or so I hope.  
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><p>He's begged her to look at him, just look in his eyes, at least six times. She's refused every single time. He's tried to hold her hand, but she pulls away. To anyone observing, it would look like he was a cheating man.<p>

Maybe he is.

The ring on his finger is gone. She doesn't ask questions, because she hasn't had the ability to move for nearly ten minutes.

In the very back of a small library just outside of Olivia's neighborhood, he stands before her, his stance wide and his face close to hers. She can smell his sweet breath and feel numerous books digging into her back, but she remains still, looking at nothing, just off of Elliot's right shoulder. Her eyes are watery but she does not weep, nor do her cheeks become moistened with tears. Her mouth is dry, too dry, as she listens to him struggle for words, not realizing when he came here with her, that he too, would be overcome by their riding emotions.

"What about you?" His voice drops to just a whisper although it was never the loud, booming voice she had become accustomed to for thirteen years. He's inching closer, closer, closer, and the oxygen around her has seemed to disappear. Her lungs burn but so does her heart and she doesn't know which pain is worse. She still has yet to look in his eyes, so she looks at his lips. The soft yet fast pant of his breath is now felt over her mouth, and his nose brushes against hers.

She stumbles awkwardly to the right and her fingers meet her lips as she looks out of the corner of her eye, knowing he's there, watching her intently.

Elliot had taken her here, explained things to her and expected her to want to scream at him but wouldn't because of the setting, but she has yet to speak. He's itching to touch her, she can tell. She knows it when he walks up beside her and presses his mouth to her cheek before she can say a word. "I shouldn't have done that," He croaks, not making another effort to touch her, although his face is almost against the side of hers.

She's trembling. He's never had his mouth pressed to any part of her body, but she knows that he wants some kind of relationship with the Olivia he left, but she no longer exists, in her mind. "Why are you here?"

Olivia backs away and presses herself back against the wall of books. He doesn't hesitate in moving in front of her, but stops moving when he sees she's looking right into his eyes. Her heart hurts. They'll never be the same.

Something inside of her is telling her just to give into whatever he wants, but she can't. He has forever ruined her; her job, her self confidence, her soul. She'll make him pay in any way she can. His words come out in a rush. "I want to fix things between us." Her hand finds his and squeezes hard, just once.

"There is no us anymore," She let's his hand go and stares in his eyes, her own burning with tears and fatigue. "I think you made that pretty clear three months ago." Her words are quiet, but cut herself like ice. Elliot however, seems to be unaffected.

"I don't believe that."

_Fuck. _"Then maybe the view of my back as I walk out the door will convince you." She pauses, straightening out her jacket. Not smiling at him, she moves towards the exit.

The bookcase supporting her back rattles with the strength of Elliot's arms slamming into them, trapping her. "I know you don't believe it either..." He murmurs, his stubble scratching the side of her face as he speaks into her ear.

Her hands tighten around a shelf when she mumbles under her breath, "You're so full of shit." She's rebellious against him. Maybe she always has been, but nothing of this caliber.

"If I were full of shit, you wouldn't be here right now," Elliot pulls back from her ear, and looks her up and down. Their thighs are touching ever so slightly, but she can feel the outside of her right and left feet brushing against the insides of his. "With your heart beating out of your chest... Your breath short..."

She can feel the panic rising in her blood. Her words come out in a pant and damn him for knowing her that well. "Stop it, Elliot." He shakes his head at her, looking deep in her eyes as if she'll break through and finally see what he's seeing. She still doesn't know what the fuck he wants from her.

His voice lowers, almost to a hiss."Stop? That's what you need to do." Where are the employees? She wonders, hoping someone can come along and separate her and Elliot. Her lungs burn because she can no longer breathe properly.

_"Shut up!"_ She half yells, trying to push his arms away. Her mind is screaming at her to get out because he's never been like this before, although she isn't scared of him. She's scared of herself and what she'll admit if he asks.

He doesn't move his arms, but inches his mouth closer to hers again. "Stop denying what we have..." This time she doesn't back away. This time she let's his lips brush and press against hers, making her body go rigid and hard. Bodily reactions are happening that she wishes she could control. Her eyes close. But she doesn't give him the satisfaction of kissing him back. Her lips stay at a stand still until he realizes this and pulls away. Her eyes open again.

When his eyes open, he studies her face. She knows how it looks right now; her eyes puffy and red, her mouth slightly open as harsh pants escape. She doesn't do anything when his fingers let go of the shelf and push her hair behind her ear. "Liv... Say something."

Olivia huffs snarkily, glaring at him. "You done?"

His other hand cups her face as well, almost smiling while he looks into her eyes. "Nothing, huh?" She presses her lips together and shakes her head, although she's lying to herself and they both know it. "I guess we'll have to work on that." His mouth is hard against hers and she let's herself kiss him back because she's sick of lying to herself about what this really is.

_Them._

She tilts her head and unclenches her hands from the bookshelf to twine around his neck and claw at his short hair, cling to the well defined muscles in his back. Her mouth opens to him and he immediately takes advantage, touching his tongue to hers. They sigh together but Olivia is anything but relaxed. Her nipples are hard in the confines of her bra and if someone doesn't stop them soon, she'll fuck him right in this library. She can't control the need to be with him. Not here in his arms, his tongue wrestling with hers while they both fight for air. They're fighting for control over something she isn't really sure will ever be tamed.

She hears feet moving towards her and just like she did when Elliot was almost charging at her, she doesn't stop. His lips and tongue feel too good against her own, along with his long, thick fingers gripping her hair, pulling her further into him. He won't move to cup a breast or

"Excuse me," A man's voice echoes, but she refuses to quit kissing Elliot. "Excuse me!" His voice is more persistent, more impatient. She knows it's unprofessional, but she wants to show her badge and tell this guy to fuck off and leave them be. "Sir, ma'am," Olivia hears the man, whom she assumes is a security guard, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Elliot's lips stop moving. His tongue retracts from her mouth. Her eyes open to see his staring back and she finds herself liking the pressure of his forehead against her own. "We'll leave," Elliot assures the man, moving his hands from Olivia's hair and down her arms to grasp her hands.

She knows they can't go to her apartment. Fuck, she doesn't even know if he took off his ring just to come and kiss her, stick his tongue down her-

He tugs her hand, urging her to follow him out the exit. "Stop thinking like that," Elliot begins. His fingers work their way through Olivia's and the struggle to breathe is present again. "Come home with me... I'll explain everything."

They head out the door and into the cold air of the night, leaving Olivia wondering what he has to say to her that could even begin to piece together what has become a constant in her life.

_The constant thought of him. _

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><p>She hadn't been comfortable letting him inside of her apartment. But he had told her to bring a change of clothes and she knows that with work, a change of clothes meant be prepared to stay for at least two days, and she found herself not wanting to let him out of her sight, even if it only meant for a few minutes. He had stayed in his gentlemanly facade, choosing not to comment about her lighter sitting on the coffee table, or her room smelling of marijuana. Instead, he talked idly about his new apartment, that he thinks she'll like it better than her own. She had laughed then, telling him no apartment could top hers.<p>

The wind whips at her hands, making her regret the decision to forgo gloves. Elliot maneuvers his motorcycle languidly through the city while Olivia has her arms secured around his stomach, her head facing inward, instead of towards traffic. She's thankful that as soon as she saw Elliot through her window, her mind and body sobered, because he likes to weave through traffic. His speed remains slow, but the midnight traffic is light and she smiles knowing the man doesn't have patience when it comes to other drivers.

He has a sprinkle of stray hairs along his neck and she finds herself wanting to nuzzle in the simplicity of it, but the helmet she adorns doesn't allow her forehead to move from it's confines. She settles for touching her lips to his neck, closing her eyes. The low moan is a rumble in his belly that vibrates throughout her, making her chuckle.

Things seem simple between them and she doesn't want to destroy this moment, but the second she steps into his apartment things will change and she'd be lying if she said she isn't frightened. Elliot signals and turns right, pulling into a parking garage.

For the first time since she first saw him just a few hours ago, she hears his voice in her head.

_I'm scared too, Liv. _

**A/N: So, what did you think? Drop me a line :)**


	5. Battling

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters.**

**A/N: Will she ever forgive, or forget?**

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><p>There are some things in her life that he cannot control. He gets that. But he should have done <em>something.<em> Cause fuck, he didn't think it was this bad. She won't admit anything and she's so fucking closed off from him now that it hurts. His chest feels too tight and it's almost as bad as when he just couldn't bear to face her.

One side of him is saying he shouldn't have kissed her so soon. He should have waited until they were both stable enough to make things work. On the other hand, he waited thirteen fucking years.

She'd agreed with him to stay at his place for a few nights, and he's not really sure what exactly their fighting for; but he wants anything. A scrape of what they used to have is good enough for him. He doesn't want to go back to the purgatory that his life had become when he separated himself from Olivia. He couldn't. Her lips were too fucking soft, now that he knew what they felt like against his. He couldn't give that up.

He knows she thinks he's a selfish bastard, and he can see it now. In the way he's sleeping on the couch because although he wouldn't admit it to her, he doesn't want her to leave him in the dead of night. His bedroom is less than ten steps from him, and he's comfortable, yet still so distraught.

_Is any of this right?_

She exits his room and he has to fight back the instinct that's telling him he wants to see her stepping out of his room to greet him all the time. He swallows the thick saliva that had settled in the back of his throat because he hadn't been breathing too much when he was waiting for her to come out. Olivia stays in the doorway, her loose tank top and flannel bottoms looking well used but not dirty. Yet she doesn't fill her clothes the way she used to. He wonders if it's because she stopped caring about her attire or if she's eating even less than she was before he left.

Either way, it's his fault.

"Goodnight, Elliot." Her voice is so monotone now. He's desperate to hear or see some emotion back in her. So much so, he doesn't realize the speed at which his feet travel towards her at until he's standing just inches from her face. There's no guilt in being this close. They never had much personal space, unless they made skin to skin contact.

That's why his lips quiver when they touch her forehead. His fingers are featherlight along the column of her neck, and he wants to move his lips there, but he feels as though they've taken a step backwards. Maybe they have. "Night, Liv..." He murmurs, running his digits over her collarbone and down her arm. "If you need anything-"

She interrupts him, this time with a hint of emotion. "Yeah."

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><p>When she surfaces from the waves of her slumber, she's ashamed. It's the second time she's woken up, although this time, at least the sun is creeping under the curtains of Elliot's bedroom.<p>

The first time, she was shivering and in a cold sweat. She had the nightmare that had been recurring for about four months now. The blankets are heavy, as are her limbs; but she manages to throw them off of her body and slowly rise into a sitting position. She guesses when she had finally fallen back to sleep, Elliot kept the door open.

Damn him for giving a fuck about her. She thinks that right now, he cares more about her than she does herself. The basic needs to keep herself alive are there, but she's turned into such a shell.

She wonders why he kissed her in the library, then. Because _Christ, _she's not the same.

When she had woken earlier, he had already been in her room, sitting beside her on the bed. Through the ache, the utter shock that her dream had forced her to feel, she pulled him to her and he stayed beside her until she fell asleep. She doesn't know if she can ever forget the feeling of slipping into unconsciousness with his arms around her.

What he wants from her, she still doesn't know.

A feeling she doesn't recognize forms inside of her when she glances out of the open door. Elliot is standing in front of the stove sans t-shirt, and even from thirty odd feet away, she can still see the toned muscle that leads to the sweats he wears. Her skin feels hot, even in the black tank top and gray flannel pajamas she adorns.

She can't see what he's making, but as she rises from the bed and steps silently towards the door, she watches him flip the contents in the pan. Her steps are silent but she knows he'll notice eventually. The floorboards voices it's objections beneath her tiptoed feet, and he flinches and turns in her direction, the frying pan in hand. She's caught, but she doesn't care. "Good morning."

Elliot gives her a small smile and turns back to where he was. When he finds his voice, he's still facing the stove. "How long have you been dating women?"

Her jaw locks. He's treading dangerous waters and she's the shark this time. "Dating?" She snaps, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not the word I'd use."

Elliot turns to her and looks at her with such fire in his eyes it reminds her of their arguments as partners. "What word would you use, then?" He snaps back, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek. His bare chest huffs when he steps towards her. She can't deal with this, not now. It hurts. She wants to turn and leave, grab her stuff and tell him goodbye, but she's glued to him. Her eyes are glued to his face because she doesn't have the metaphorical balls to look at his chest.

"Why does it matter?" She doesn't know what time it is, but if the sun is up, it's too early to be this irritated. She can't stand when he interrogates her and she should have known he would as soon as he asked her to stay with him. When he crosses his arms over his chest and rolls his eyes, she finds herself hissing at him. "It's a personal question and I'm not going to answer it."

Olivia is already stepping towards him as he speaks. "Funny, I don't remember you being this withdrawn." She drags her eyes over his face, tightening her lips into a hard line. He's a fucking prick for bringing this up.

But she's so angry, she doesn't watch what comes out of her mouth.

"That's what happens when you've been devoid of communication with your partner." Their chests brush together and she's thankful she chose to wear a bra to bed, because her nipples are peaked so much it's almost relieving to have pressure against them.

_Don't, Liv._

He smirks, that arrogant fucking smirk that always got under her skin. She'd be lying to herself if she said it didn't make her wet. "I had to do what I had to do," Olivia scoffs, interrupting him. "You just couldn't respect that."

She chuckles, turning them around so she can press Elliot hard against the kitchen counter. His hands land on her hips, almost automatically. If she wasn't wet before, she is now. "I don't respect a man who ran away with his tail between his legs..."

_Stop, Olivia. _

His lips quiver, and his face begins to redden in anger. She gets chills down her spine, but resists shivering. "You never respected me in the first place!" Elliot snarls, and she feels his hands curl into fists on her waist.

Her breathing in harsh. "You fucking asshole, you had my respect even when you didn't deserve it." He let's go of her waist, but his fingers dance at where her tank top had risen during their argument. She slaps his hands, but he grabs them, forcing them back against the counter. His eyes are boring into hers and she won't let him win this battle because it was hers in the first place.

She wants to tell him to go to hell. She would.

If his lips weren't hard on hers, demanding her to open her mouth. She whimpers because his lips are too perfect, too right against her own. Her mouth moves against his, her tongue assaulting his as soon as they open their mouths. On instinct, she guesses, he let's go of her wrists.

She's waited too fucking long.

Her hands move all over his chest. His pecs twitch under her touch, under the nails she scrapes his skin with. She wants to tell him that she's still mad at him, but she won't stop moving her mouth against his. He groans, and she feels herself being lifted up onto the counter. She lets him stand between her legs, but not without revenge. When she thrusts her hips towards his, pressing her heated core to the hard bulge in his sweats, he groans again.

She's no longer in a haze, in this moment. On the contrary. She's never felt more alive.

**A/N: So is that it, or...**


	6. Touching

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or it's characters.**

**A/N: Excuse the long update gap, I've been pretty sick. But thank you for sticking with this story!**

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><p>She always knew he would be a good kisser. It's the way he kisses hard, unnervingly, but soothes her lips after with softer kisses. His mouth is on her neck, biting and caressing. She shouldn't have let him kiss her there, because no one gets to touch the sensitive skin and get away with their clothes on.<p>

The moan that escapes her lips sobers her, brings her back to reality. He shouldn't be kissing her or touching her the way he is. She shouldn't be grinding herself into him and urging his ministrations. It's not even clear to her if he's still married or what- but her body is unable to stop him.

"Please," her voice is ragged, rough even. Her body doesn't want him to stop, but her mind knows that whatever the fuck they have become will not survive if they fuck on the counter without talking about it first. "Stop." He does, immediately. They know with the job- her job, that it's so crucial, so important to have consent from both parties, even if they both want more. She's thankful he's still the same in that sense. But she needs to talk to him about so much that it's nearly consuming her mind. The questions, the demands, the angry accusations are filling her head. He pulls away but his eyes remain closed. She wants to touch his face, run her fingertips over the lines, his closed eyes, his lips. Just feel him, and assure herself that he's really there.

But Olivia pushes herself off of the counter and can't look at him as she steps towards the dark brown, frat boy-like couch situated in front of the television. She wonders if he spent his nights here, laying in the quiet, or if he turned on the television to try and drone all of his thoughts out. Her body protests as she lowers herself onto the couch. She can't let all the ache, whether it be the physical cost of her job or the tiredness of her body that started to seep in after he left.

Him. He's situating himself opposite her on the couch, so close that when he leans his head on the back of the cushioned seat, his hand encounters her sweat pant covered thigh. Their body language is nearly identical in the way they both have a leg propped up on the couch so they can comfortably sit and look directly at each other. Because this is what she needs. Confrontation. Explanations. Anything.

Just something besides the silence; a thing that has become a large part of her these days, besides when Amanda was at her apartment. That's another thing they need to talk about. The subjects are piling up, so many questions and doubts from her. She doesn't know if they'll move past this, ever.

Her eyes flick up to his face, grazing over his closed eyes, his shallow, uneven breaths. He's thinking about talking. His mouth opens and she sucks in as much air possible, attempting to be discreet in her actions. The air in her lungs feels like it evaporated when he speaks. "I was so tempted..." He breathes, his nails unconsciously digging into her upper thigh. "These feelings were surrounding me. But I have a family."

Olivia nods, her eyes roaming his face. He looks almost frightened of his words. "You're an honorable man, Elliot. It's why you married Kathy in the first place," she chokes a bit on her words. "It's why you went back when she got pregnant with Eli." She doesn't add that she too was tempted and had too many feelings that were not supposed to be there in the first place.

"But I had never felt anything so intense," Elliot admits, and his fingers are now clenched tightly on the material of her pajamas. "Not even with Kathy." He holds up his left hand, wiggling his bare ring finger. The unanswered question hangs in the air for a few seconds before he drops his voice. "We separated almost right after I officially retired. It was... Easier, then I thought it would be."

She had thought when they finally talked about it all, she'd be able to take a few deep breaths and let it all soak in. But she doesn't think she can. The tears prick her eyes and force her to look away. His fingers loosen from their grip on her pants and migrate to her shoulder. She tries to shrug it away, but he keeps his hold on her, gently but firmly. "When I left, I was forced to confront all of those feelings. There wasn't any way I could avoid it and hide behind the job or our partnership. Nothing was in the way... And it's all I thought about for these past few months."

Olivia is still bitter, even if his admission is doing crazy things to her mind and body. "Well, while you were hiding, I had to face my feelings head on, Elliot." The anger begins to trickle into his face but he's quick to hide it behind a smile. She sees through him now, and always has.

"I didn't know me leaving would drive you to do the things you did." He sighs as he speaks, retracting his hand from her face. At first she thinks he's adjusting to move closer, and then she fully processes his words. He's moving away from her. What did he mean by that?

She dips her head to the side to look in his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Olivia hisses at him, feeling her anger rise inside her as well. They shouldn't be arguing, and hell, if she would have just gave into what her body really wanted, she'd still be on the counter. Maybe he would've bent her over...

"Oh c'mon, Liv. The weed... Your sexy little blonde friend..."

Amanda. _Christ, _she hadn't thought about her. She hadn't thought about the repercussions of them sleeping together the first time. Or the third. Or her fucking feelings. Amanda's kisses were like Elliot's in that they both held passion. But they all know who she really wants, and Olivia can't believe she took advantage of the blonde without a second thought. So fuck him for teasing her about it. She knows how to get under his skin. "You jealous, Stabler?" Her tone falls flat, though. He's staring at her now, his blue eyes shining with emotion.

_When I was with her, I thought of you... I don't know if there was a time I didn't._

Elliot moves closer to her, his face inching in as his thumb brushes along her cheekbone. She wants to tell him she doesn't need this intimacy, but she'd be lying. Her eyes are growing heavy. Swallowing hard, she covers his hand on her face and pushes back the hard, controlling urge to cry in his arms. She'd cry for everything she thought they had before he left, all of the emptiness and rage that consumed her during the time he was gone. She'd cry for every kiss and everything that went beyond that with Amanda, because the woman deserves better. She'd even cry for Nick, who she'd mistreated in every way possible.

She'd cry for her future with Elliot. If there is one.

But she won't. She can't. He's solidified her whole being, and she's not sure if she's the same Olivia as ever. He speaks to her without words, just like he used to. His mouth descends on hers, and this time it isn't angry or any other emotion she'd used as an excuse to kiss him, it's just _them. _They gravitate towards each other as Olivia's lips part naturally, taking his bottom lip gently between hers. She closes her eyes and tries to make the moment last forever. When she pulls back, he presses their foreheads together, sinking his teeth into her lip.

As Olivia chuckles into his mouth, he nudges her backwards and it becomes a tangle of legs and hips molding and moving together. Elliot brings her hands over her head and entwines their fingers, scraping his teeth down her neck. She grinds back against him, desperate for some contact on her aching core. Things shouldn't be this easy, but they are, for right now. Her breathy moan spurs him on to sucking and biting her neck more, and pressing his hard length right on her heating center. She wishes she could speak, be able to find her voice long enough to do anything but moan into his ear. She wants to tell him she likes that, but it's impossible for her to ruin the moment.

Really, she thinks, he's had enough of the teasing. They move faster, now. Her hips move with his, just the barrier of their thin pants keeping them from what they really want. His dick slides against her, making her open thighs twitch. She digs her heels into his ass, begging him mentally to just take off their pants and drive into her. "Do you want to..." He starts, his breathlessness now allowing him to finish before in taking another breath.

"Yeah." This time when she says it, her voice is real, it's strong, and full of emotion. His lips find hers again before she maneuvers them around so she's on top of him. She pulls her shirt up until she has to detach her lips from his, sitting upright in his lap. His hands go straight to the soft skin of her hips, subtly running his fingers under the material of her sweats.

While she leans down and kisses him again, she cuts off the fears and doubts in her mind that her and Elliot will work out. They need this, here and now. She feels him; his chest, his shoulders, his stomach, all of him. She needs the reassurance that he'll be there when she wakes up every morning because if they go through with this and he leaves again, there will no longer be an Olivia Benson. He's destroyed her once, and she won't let him do it again.

Even if she has to tie him to the bed.

**A/N: Next chapter: Will they go all the way, or will one of them run? **


	7. Finishing

**Disclaimer: I do not own Law & Order: SVU or its characters.**

**A/N: It was a fantastic ride, with this story. I hope you guys liked it. **

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><p>It's hope that's driven him to her.<p>

With each flutter of his lips on her skin, there's a little bit more hope within him. Hope for the future. Hope that he'll survive this encounter, if that's what it really is, with her. Because truthfully, he feels as though he's about to com-bust from want. He's never wanted anything in his life as badly as loving Olivia.

Maybe that's what he's trying to show her. That he's in love with her.

The thought burns in the back of his mind as he blindly pushes the coffee table over. He leans, further and further, until his back is hard on the shaggy carpet and the pain mixes with the thought that she's right there on top of him. She laughs nervously and takes control of their situation, pulling him up into a sitting position and straddling him.

He wants so badly to hear her thoughts right now. Just to know what she's thinking about him, about them, about everything. It makes him wonders if she hates him deep down for fucking up so badly.

The smell of her is in his lungs and he loves it. It reminds him of the sedan and how after hours of spending time in there with her, both of their scents mixed together. He opens his eyes to her and his cheeks get a little pink for all the right reasons. She stares back at him now, her lips swollen and wet from his lips and tongue.

Elliot picks up the gray tank top from her waist and inches it up her abdomen. He's seen her without a shirt on before but never in this situation. Never with her breasts so close to his face. The couch supporting him is heavy and it's a god sent. He knows what's about to happen.

She's tired of the anticipation and he understands. He's made her wait for years too long and now he's prolonging it even further but he just wants to take his time and get to appreciate her body like she so rightfully deserves.

Her shirt is on the floor beside them now, probably among the newspapers and an empty coffee cup on the table from earlier this morning. He'd waken up earlier and checked on her, just to make sure she wasn't in the midst of another nightmare. She refused to tell him what it was about, but that alone told him.

He hasn't really apologized, but is unable to let it slip from his lips and ruin the moment. His left hand finds the clasp in her bra and with a single squeeze, he's released her breasts from it's lace prison. She's almost shy in her movements, pulling the straps off her shoulders. The material drops from her hand and the breath leaves his lungs.

_Perfection._

Things begin to move quickly then, and soon enough they're both naked and kissing. His fingers brush lower, along her wet folds, waiting for the right moment. When she pulls back from the kiss with wide eyes, he pushes a single digit into her.

Olivia's cries awaken him from his haze. He grins while her nipple, now in his mouth, hardens quickly. A set of nails clench and grip his bare skin but it's a small price to pay for her pleasure. It's a possessive part of him that takes over, that starts to control his thoughts and motions.

He's _so, so guilty._ It's the asshole inside of him that teased her about Amanda, about the marijuana, about her broken attitude towards work these days. It hits him hard that he's caused all this. He gave her something for twelve years and took it away from her because he was tired of fighting everything. The apology is still caught in his closed throat.

She nods against him. It's reassuring that they're still in each others head's, even if it's just a little bit. Elliot retracts his finger and wraps his hand around himself, just as she raises her hips. The tip of his cock nudges at her entrance and she gasps. He searches her eyes for discomfort or regret and finds nothing except... Passion.

She's not ready to admit she's in love just yet and he's fine with that.

Olivia sinks down, agonizingly slow onto him. It pushes him to explore her, to let her explore him. He's got his palm on her right breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, trying to forget how amazing she feels and how he can't and will never recover from this. Not physically, but mentally. It's already etched into his mind; how her hand is cupping his face, how her body feels and looks against his.

It makes him selfish for her. She feels like warm velvet as he thrust up into her, in perfect rhythm with her lowering and rising. The pressure, alone, would make him come harder than he ever had.

But he _watches her._

He's well aware of the whirlwind inside her head right now and he's prepared for too fucking long to just step away and let her cower. Her head tilts forward and touches his neck, but her intentions are untrue. She doesn't want the closeness she's faking right now- she's avoiding looking him in the eye.

Elliot _resists her._

His fingers run through her hair and he gently tugs, pulling her back until her face scrapes along his day old beard. With her forehead against his, she finally opens those fucking eyes and looks at him. _There. Believe me, Olivia. _

A few days ago was the first time he'd seen her since the shooting. It's still so new, seeing her again. At least she's openly admitted she's changed. Her hands dance across his cheek, and just like that, he's hers again. He starts to lose himself in being inside of her, feeling her skin rubbing his, and somehow, he manages to stand. Her legs wrap around him as though she'll be dropped, but his hands are secured around her waist and he pummels into her, moving her up and down his shaft with him.

He works faster in fear that she'll notice he's shaking. Elliot just wants to make her forget.

The lump in his throat grows with each pass of her lips over his. She's struggled over the years and he did nothing to help her. This is their reality now, though. He's living off of his pension and some savings he kept secret from Kathy, but Olivia has a job and a life. Yet still, he's fucking inside of her.

They've always been in a toxic relationship.

It hurts the both of them; but they fight and he can't bring himself to apologize and she takes that in stride, pushing them to move on and strain their relationship just a little bit more.

The emotions are ripping through him now.

She's moaning, rocking her hips into him and it all just pushes him- _drives him_ on. Before a thought can register, he's walking towards the couch, laying her down, pulling her feet onto his shoulders and thrusting. He's wanted her so bad for so long. Her want covers his cock, his balls, the insides of her thighs. They're a mess of sweat and other things. He loves it.

"_Please,"_ she groans.

His thumb finds her clit then, and flicks it twice per thrust, per slap of his skin on hers. He's almost rough with her but he knows it'll be better with time; it won't be sloppy and for all the wrong reasons. They won't be so fucked up, they'll be able to hold an emotional conversation without trying to rip each others' throats out or fucking each other stupid.

He wants to make this right. He will.

"_Right there."_

Elliot growls then. He bends and nips at her neck, feeling her start to shake and convulse around him. However, his fascination compels him to pull back and observe the look on her face. He waited thirteen fucking years to see the expression on her face when he made her cum, and he's not missing it.

She almost looks like she's smiling. Her eyes shut tightly and her neck stiffens with the orgasm that rips through her- and him. It makes his hips jerk unevenly through her pulsation. He slams into her again and pushes his thumb hard against her clit.

The sound that flies out of her mouth is nothing short of violent.

Again, he slams into her. He shoots into her with the same violence she'd come with, and the irony of it all is evident. She takes it all in with a few whimpers, matching each pulse of his cock with scratches down his back. His head lands between her breasts which causes him to slip out of her as his lungs ache to be filled again.

_Breathe, Elliot._

He feels her body beneath his and although she's climaxed already, he feels the tension within her. It isn't like before though, and Elliot takes comfort in that. She's warming up to him finally.

Her haze is finally beginning to disappear. It's all he wanted, since he met her. For her to realize she is one on her own, that although they need each other for reasons he cannot start to explain, she's independent. Her identity isn't blurred by who her father was, or how her mother raised her, anymore.

He feels her pushing all of that away, for them.

One day, he wishes, that he'll find his way through the haze and come out of the other side. With her.

_finis_


End file.
